MY MOTHER KNELT IN PRAYER. 19

And the sweet breath of early flowers
Ne'er with such sweetness came,
As when her accents gently breathe
Our Saviour's blessed name.

MY MOTHER KNELT IN PRAYER.

WHEN in my boyhood's gladsome day,
My heart was light as air,
I wandered to a lonely room,
Where mother knelt in prayer.

Her hands were clasped in fervency,
Her lips moved without a sound;
Yet awe-struck, solemnlyI felt
I stood on holy ground.

My mother, all-entranced in prayer,
My presence heeded not;

I reverently turned away
In silence from the spot.

My gentle mother never knew
That I had seen her pray

20

THE DEAREST PLACE IS HOME.

In secrecy; but I revered

Her doubly from that day.

She died; and I an orphan, since
Through many cares have strayed;
But God has kept me- and I feel
He heard her when she prayed.

THE DEAREST PLACE IS HOME,

Of all the spots that Heaven has blest,
The dearest place is home;

'Tis there the fond heart loves to rest,
And never loves to roam;

Whilst love plays round the smiling hearth, 'Tis Heaven's own bliss enjoyed on earth.

Of all the gifts bestowed to cheer
Man's pilgrim path below,

The richest treasure resteth here,
Which they are blest who know.
Whilst love plays round the smiling hearth,
'Tis Heaven's own bliss enjoyed on earth.

THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD. 21

THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD.

BY BENJAMIN W. PEARCE.

SWEET home of my childhood,
How oft have I strayed,

Through thy meadows and wild wood,
And evergreen glade -

Where the wild flowers blossom'd

So bright and so fair

And the wing'd songsters' music

Was heard through the air.

How oft in my boyhood

Unconscious I've roamed,

By the sea-beaten shores

Where the broad breakers foamed;

And the shrill winds whistled

Across the wide bay;

While the sea birds were soaring

Aloft in the sky.

Thy bright walks of sweetness

By the moon's mellow light, With the friends whom I've loved I've pursued with delight—

22

THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD.

While the loud songs of gladness
That rung on the sky,
Proclaimed in their rapture,
Young hearts filled with joy.

Thy neat painted churches
Whose spires I now see,
Have not lost their sweetness,
Their beauty to me-
I love them-dear places
For worship designed-
So spread the blest gospel

And enlighten the mind.

23

THE GRATEFUL WELCOME.

A GREAT many years ago, there lived in a large city, some persons who became dissatisfied with their rulers and their laws; and thinking that they could live more happily elsewhere, they resolved to leave their home and go to another place. They met together, and considered the matter, and agreed to start at a certain time for a new country. Men, women, and children assembled at the still hour of night, and silently departed.

They embarked, and after sailing many days and months, wearied and fatigued, they reached at last their new country. They were strangers in a strange land, and they knew not the